The R and B
by thecrazyfanficcer
Summary: [AU] The love of two Daily Bugle employees. Robbie Robertson and Betty Brant, to be exact. [pathetic old stuff]
1. Spires of New York

**A/N: Hi, everyone. Robbie Robertson and Betty Brant are two people who work for the _Bugle - _they're in the movies, but not too much. (Speaking of which, Spider-Man doesn't belong to me. It belongs to Stan Lee and Steve Ditko.)**

**Speaking of which, the timeline for this one is during the time in the second movie when Peter ceases to be NYC's friendly neighbourhood superhero. Technincally, this fic changes things slightly, but without real effect on the storyline. A minor change - in the comic (and probably movies), Robbie is married to a woman named Marla. Here, he's not. (I've got to start doing the research _before_ I start the fic). Ah, well, whatever. (grins) Enjoy! **

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New York City was still for once.

Which was a pretty unusual sight, reflected J. Jonas Jameson, staring up at the silvery-gray mass of steely skyscrapers, chrome-plated condominiums and metallic museums of NYC. Jonah, the publisher and editor in-chief of the _Daily Bugle_, the local newspaper, glanced quickly around the industrial area. It was here, where the big residential apartments, condos and office buildings crowded the place that was usually teeming with New Yorkers, but for once things were still and empty.

"Hm…" murmured Jonah. Almost desperately, he strained his eyes to see the red form of Spider-Man, New York's arachnid superherohero. Sure enough, JJJ was soon rewarded. The red and blue figure swung through the industrial area by means of one of his gossamer-like webbing lines - the modern-day NYC equivalent of Tarzan swingin' through the jungle.

Jonah glanced one last time at the masked marauder and then pivoted quickly on his heel, turning to face the _Bugle_'s editor in-chief, who was sitting at the desk as he typed away on his laptop.

"Robbie!" The bespectacled African-American turned round, wondering what Jonah could want. The head honcho of the _Daily Bugle_ had been gazing out the window a few minutes past; knowing JJJ, that had probably affected the order he was about to issue to Robbie.

"What, sir?" he asked, wondering inwardly, again, what Jonah wanted. "Is the newscast in yet?"

"No, I was just wondering why in the world the industrial area is empty as anything today," JJJ replied as he padded over to his own desk and popped open a drawer. Robbie watched in horrified fascination as the older man proceeded to remove a large packet of Cuban cigars from the inside; Jonah snapped it open and dumped the contents on his glass-encased blotter. He reached for one of the largest cigars and swept the others back away into the drawer, which he then slammed shut – all in the approximate space of one and three quarters of a second. "I've seen Spider-Man, but criminalwise, the area is completely empty."

"Maybe the criminals are scared of Spider-Man, sir," replied Robbie, coughing slightly as JJJ flicked a silver bullet-shaped cube from his breast pocket and lit the cigar. It wasn't long before a cloud of dank gray smoke had completely obscured his boss's face. "Maybe they've stopped in this area.

"Could you stop that, please?" he added defiantly, one hand flattened against his nose as the odorous fumes wafted in his direction. "It's disturbing my concentration."

"All right, all right," Jonah replied, subdued; in a few seconds the cigar had disappeared down the garbage can. "But I want a report on why the crime rates are dropping here - pronto!"

Robbie watched as his boss's elusive figure cut through that part of the building, to stand in front of the silver-plated elevator. In a matter of seconds, J. Jonah Jameson stood there no longer.

Suddenly, his dark eyes flew to Spider-Man in flight, whose red and blue costume reflected on the pane, and then flicked forward to the laptop as he started his assignment.

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"How's the assignment going, Betty?"

"Not too well," Betty Brant replied carefully, looking up at her boss. One had to be careful around J. Jonah Jameson – the aura of "it's-got-to-be-on-time" that surrounded him wasn't always a good thing. "I mean, the answer is obvious; it's because of Spider-Man. Why else?"

"Well, you never know, Betty, you never know," JJJ replied cryptically. He was leaning against the window a few cubicles away on her own; he was blocking the breathtaking New York vista, judging from the shouts of her fellow coworkers in another part of the room. "But then, think about it," Jonah continued, gesturing vaguely with his left hand – his right was holding a Mexican cigar (smaller this time) to his mouth. "How long has Spider-Man been saving us New Yorkers? About a year, right?" When his employee nodded, he continued his monologue, moving his right hand so that the cigar was gripped in between his teeth. "Crime rates have been dropping substantially around here since about Monday morning."

You had to owe it to Jonah; he sure could be smart when he wanted to. Betty glanced at today's newspaper, lying beside her coffee canister. The headline read, _Crime Rates Down Faster than Ever._ It wasn't her who had written that – rather, it had been JJJ itself. He tended to obsess over things sometimes. (Then again, maybe he was just jealous.)

Nevertheless, she quickly scanned the front page. A bar graph with red lines representing the statistics had been printed; sure enough, New York's crime rate had gone down by almost twenty percent during the past week. "Maybe he's just trying extra hard?" she dared to venture, and Jonah shrugged in reply:

"I don't know… But – and I can guarantee it – this is just a one-day obsession. Spider-Man saved us all a few months ago, and I'll never forget that. He's a real hero."


	2. Shadows of the Spider

**A/N: MJ is furious in this one. In Redhead in the Rain (my other Spider-Man fic) she missed Peter, and he missed her. In this fic, Mary Jane is mad because it seems like Peter deliberately threw in the towel about being a superhero.**

**No, not just yet for the flashback… See? I love cliffies, heh heh heh. Now that I've left you hanging with two somewhat unimportant workers of the Daily Bugle, I'll traverse forward, onto the story of a beautiful redhead and an intellectual alter ego… I wrote a story about them once and got three reviews. Yay! Anyway, so onto it. (grins crazily)**

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Mary Jane Watson was annoyed.

And that was saying something – sure, she may have been a beautiful redhead who got annoyed as any other famous (cough) theater actress would, but, unlike some, her thoughts had nothing to do with fame and fortune. Rather, they involved one man – one man who had changed New York City for good, had corrupted the very fabric of time and became the Big Apple's biggest saviour. One man who was also known as Peter Parker.

No, correct that, MJ thought as she furiously scanned the tall skyscrapers of the industrial area, one man, minus the alter ego. She knew - yes, she knew - because of the phone call. Unbeknowst to Peter, she'd listened to his recorded message and actually believed it. He fit Spider-Man's bill - same build, height; everything seemed to work out perfectly. This known, she was angry at him.

For almost eight hours now, Peter hadn't showed his face once among the mass of steel, chrome and plate-glass New York was made of. No, it definitely wasn't an accident – how could it be? No, he had done it on purpose.

Not of spite, though – Mary Jane knew it. He was above giving up from spiteful reasons. There was more to it than that, but what could it be? She'd omitted hatred and spite from her list; those were some of the least possible factors. Let's see… Mary Jane thoughtfully glanced above, towards the pale blue sky and the cream-coloured clouds scudding across it.

It could have been criminals, too. They could have kidnapped him, found out he was really Peter Parker - the local nerd who always failed to be on time for his college classes - and were currently holding him…where? In an abandoned building did the trick; possibly as a hostage. They'd have to be smart, then, to best Spider-Man at his own game of smarts and bravery.

But I would've known, anyway. Aunt May would have told me. Peter's kind and caring aunt had known MJ since they had met on that faithful day long ago… So, yes, she definitely would have known…or would she have?

Peter – and Mary Jane knew this – called his aunt enough so that she would know if he had gone missing. No…that didn't make sense. If he'd been captured (if he had been captured) it would have been, say, early this morning, maybe last night. In other words, it was too early to know for sure. She didn't omit this new theory from her list, but held it for later. Only time would tell for this one.

Her problem more than just a simple dilemma, but rather a fight between life and death for several New Yorkers, MJ had a single thought on her mind as her questions lay unanswered: Peter, where are you?

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Robbie had known Betty since the days of highschool, when he had been a senior and she a freshman. He could remember it oh-so-well…

Joseph "Robbie" Robertson stared at the newcomer.

At fourteen-going-on-fifteen, Elizabeth Brant (more known as Betty) was only a freshman in the wide world of Big Apple highschool - a little fish in a big pond, as his mother would say. And yet, she always seemed to be happily bouncing around the wide halls of the plain, iron-gray building that marked the beginning of the artistic side of New York; the school itself was literally scrubbed white under layers of spray paint. He had glimpsed Betty pondering the murals with her friend Belita Martinez, better known as Bunny. He had watched in fascination as she and Bunny had traced their palms over one particular large mural depicting a young cleric healing the wounded on a worn-torn battlefield, had listened as the two began to chatter excitedly about the mural they would one day paint, to show who they were and what they stood for.

And so came the day when he actually met her.

It was just like in one of those romantic black and white movies from the fifties. Robbie was hurrying over to a social studies class; being the punctual, sensible, on-time kind of person that he was, he shuffled along, his eyes focused on the plain beige backdrop of the hallway ahead of him. She, also, was hurrying for her next subject – she was a bright and intelligent student, that Betty Brant, though quick-witted and somewhat impatient.

Before he knew it, Robbie had made contact with her figure and she went skidding to a halt on the grime-covered gray tiles . Being the unluckier and clumsier of the two, he, however, went crashing to the floor, followed by his thick blue social studies binder. At once, he looked up and saw Betty staring down at him. All of a sudden, his vision misted, he went tumbling into oblivion, and her figure blurred. Everything blurred, but he felt funny. Different. It wasn't a bad feeling, kind of like when he had gone on his first date. Only this was so much more extreme.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! Are you all right?" Betty cried as her hand snaked toward his to help him up.

"I…I-I'm fine," Robbie stuttered unsteadily, grabbing onto her arm and levering himself to his feet. That was better, but he still felt a little wobbly. And…And he could feel his face flushing. In front of a younger girl. He was blushing. What Robbie failed to notice was that she was, too, and the result: he went toppling to his knees. How ironic.

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Yes, indeed, Betty could remember the day…

Betty had glanced Robbie in and out of the hallways since her arrival to the school in September. He was always doing something: hurrying to a class or after-school club, tutoring the younger teens, heading to a student council meeting. She and her friend Bunny Martinez had indeed seen him often, though she had really thought about it.

So, this day, as she helped him clamber to his feet, it was a strange feeling, to be assaulted like this. It felt like her first date with another boy – a tall, brown-haired specimen named Lyle – only this, this was different. Betty had never had a crush before, but she suspected that it must be like this – they overwhelming emotion and confused feelings.

She was allowing Robbie to be helped to his feet, and noticed his cheeks, which were normally not that dark, had gone ebony-coloured. She felt her own cheeks reddening – those feelings again; it must have been...whatever it was. As she helped him up, Betty was inclined to cry out, almost insensibly, in apology. Not the wisest move, but one thing was for sure – Robbie knew he was blushing. He didn't know she was, though. So, she contented with herself by groaning quietly.

When he finally went his way and the dark on their cheeks finally dissipated, Betty was left staring at his receding figure. She realised she liked him… What in the world would she tell Bunny?

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Of course, the good thing was, Bunny, after being told about it by her friend, had kept the story, as did Robbie's friend Ross Mitchell. Not the wisest thing to do for either of them, but, then again, love is a strange thing…

They soon got over it in the lunchroom that fateful afternoon of July 2006, but what about Spider-Man?

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"What's with the webslinger?"

JJJ's jaw was moving rapidly up and down rhythmically as he chewed the thick wad of mint-flavoured Excel. Actually, he was trying to break his habit of smoking his cigars; apparently, Robbie wasn't the only one who had found it distracting. Now, not for the first time, he was standing and facing the wide glass window that twisted and twirled all around the twenty-second floor of the Daily Bugle headquarters. He was, of course, looking for Spider-Man; everyone was these days.

It was now Thursday, exactly seventy-two hours and thirty-six minutes since the friendly neighbourhood superhero had disappeared. Everyone was on edge – it was amazing how the disappearance of one single man had everyone unnerved and seemingly walking on eggs every day.

"I want you and Betty to search him out." Jonah suddenly whirled on Robbie, who shrunk back in veritable terror. "Find out his identity. Zoom in on the facts. When every piece clicks into place, corner him, do-"

But he was cut off by Robbie, who almost squeaked in surprise, "Corner him? What do you mean, corner him?"

"I know what you're thinking, and that's not what I meant." Jonah's jaw went repeatedly up and down as he chewed the small white square of mint-flavoured Excel – he should have actually been chewing Nicorette, now that you mention it – as he replied, calmly in comparison to his employee. "Just track him down and pester him to tell you two why in the world he isn't doing it." His short speech finished, JJJ leaned over to spit his gum into a garbage can, placed neatly on the floor beside his desk.

It, of course, meant donning that NYC-famous red and blue superhero suit, of picking up the ropes from where he had abandoned them three crimeful (cool word!) days ago. Jonah had waited the minimum amount of time before springing the challenge on Robbie, and now the chase was on.

"Right on it, sir," he muttered after JJJ's receding figure. "Find out why Spider-Man has suddenly given up. Got it."


	3. Oh, Superhero, where art thou?

**A/N: MJ is furious in this one. In Redhead in the Rain (my other Spider-Man fic) she missed Peter, and he missed her. In this fic, Mary Jane is mad because it seems like Peter deliberately threw in the towel about being a superhero.**

**No, not just yet for the flashback… See? I love cliffies, heh heh heh. Now that I've left you hanging with two somewhat unimportant workers of the _Daily Bugle_, I'll traverse forward, onto the story of a beautiful redhead and an intellectual alter ego… I wrote a story about them once and got three reviews. Yay! Anyway, so onto it. (grins crazily)**

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Mary Jane Watson was annoyed.

And that was saying something – sure, she may have been a beautiful redhead who got annoyed as any other famous (cough) theater actress would, but, unlike some, her thoughts had nothing to do with fame and fortune. Rather, they involved one man – one man who had changed New York City for good, had corrupted the very fabric of time and became the Big Apple's biggest saviour. One man who was also known as Peter Parker.

_No, correct that,_ MJ thought as she furiously scanned the tall skyscrapers of the industrial area, _one man, minus the alter ego. _She knew - yes, she knew - because of the phone call. Unbeknowst to Peter, she'd listened to his recorded message and actually believed it. He fit Spider-Man's bill - same build, height; everything seemed to work out perfectly. This known, she was angry at him.

For almost eight hours now, Peter hadn't showed his face once among the mass of steel, chrome and plate-glass New York was made of. No, it definitely wasn't an accident – how could it be? No, he had done it on purpose.

Not of spite, though – Mary Jane knew it. He was above giving up from spiteful reasons. There was more to it than that, but what could it be? She'd omitted hatred and spite from her list; those were some of the least possible factors. _Let's see…_ Mary Jane thoughtfully glanced above, towards the pale blue sky and the cream-coloured clouds scudding across it.

It could have been criminals, too. They could have kidnapped him, found out he was really Peter Parker - the local nerd who always failed to be on time for his college classes - and were currently holding him…where? In an abandoned building did the trick; possibly as a hostage. They'd have to be smart, then, to best Spider-Man at his own game of smarts and bravery.

_But I would've known, anyway._ _Aunt May would have told me. _Peter's kind and caring aunt had known MJ since they had met on that faithful day long ago… So, yes, she definitely would have known…or would she have?

Peter – and Mary Jane knew this – called his aunt enough so that she would know if he had gone missing. No…that didn't make sense. If he'd been captured (if he _had _been captured) it would have been, say, early this morning, maybe last night. In other words, it was too early to know for sure. She didn't omit this new theory from her list, but held it for later. Only time would tell for this one.

Her problem more than just a simple dilemma, but rather a fight between life and death for several New Yorkers, MJ had a single thought on her mind as her questions lay unanswered: _Peter, where are you?_

--------------------------------

Robbie had known Betty since the days of highschool, when he had been a senior and she a freshman. He could remember it oh-so-well…

_Joseph "Robbie" Robertson stared at the newcomer._

_At fourteen-going-on-fifteen, Elizabeth Brant (more known as Betty) was only a freshman in the wide world of Big Apple highschool - a little fish in a big pond, as his mother would say. And yet, she always seemed to be happily bouncing around the wide halls of the plain, iron-gray building that marked the beginning of the artistic side of New York; the school itself was literally scrubbed white under layers of spray paint. He had glimpsed Betty pondering the murals with her friend Belita Martinez, better known as Bunny. He had watched in fascination as she and Bunny had traced their palms over one particular large mural depicting a young cleric healing the wounded on a worn-torn battlefield, had listened as the two began to chatter excitedly about the mural they would one day paint, to show who they were and what they stood for._

_And so came the day when he actually met her._

_It was just like in one of those romantic black and white movies from the fifties. Robbie was hurrying over to a social studies class; being the punctual, sensible, on-time kind of person that he was, he shuffled along, his eyes focused on the plain beige backdrop of the hallway ahead of him. She, also, was hurrying for her next subject – she was a bright and intelligent student, that Betty Brant, though quick-witted and somewhat impatient. _

_Before he knew it, Robbie had made contact with her figure and she went skidding to a halt on the grime-covered gray tiles . Being the unluckier and clumsier of the two, he, however, went crashing to the floor, followed by his thick blue social studies binder. At once, he looked up and saw Betty staring down at him. All of a sudden, his vision misted, he went tumbling into oblivion, and her figure blurred. Everything blurred, but he felt funny. Different. It wasn't a bad feeling, kind of like when he had gone on his first date. Only this was so much more extreme._

"_Oh, I'm so sorry! Are you all right?" Betty cried as her hand snaked toward his to help him up._

"_I…I-I'm fine," Robbie stuttered unsteadily, grabbing onto her arm and levering himself to his feet. That was better, but he still felt a little wobbly. And…And he could feel his face flushing. In front of a younger girl. He was blushing. What Robbie failed to notice was that she was, too, and the result: he went toppling to his knees. How ironic._

--------------------------------

Yes, indeed, Betty could remember the day…

_Betty had glanced Robbie in and out of the hallways since her arrival to the school in September. He was always doing something: hurrying to a class or after-school club, tutoring the younger teens, heading to a student council meeting. She and her friend Bunny Martinez had indeed seen him often, though she had really thought about it._

_So, this day, as she helped him clamber to his feet, it was a strange feeling, to be assaulted like this. It felt like her first date with another boy – a tall, brown-haired specimen named Lyle – only this, this was different. Betty had never had a crush before, but she suspected that it must be like this – they overwhelming emotion and confused feelings. _

_She was allowing Robbie to be helped to his feet, and noticed his cheeks, which were normally not that dark, had gone ebony-coloured. She felt her own cheeks reddening – those feelings again; it must have been...whatever it was. As she helped him up, Betty was inclined to cry out, almost insensibly, in apology. Not the wisest move, but one thing was for sure – Robbie knew he was blushing. He didn't know _she_ was, though. So, she contented with herself by groaning quietly._

_When he finally went his way and the dark on their cheeks finally dissipated, Betty was left staring at his receding figure. She realised she liked him… What in the world would she tell Bunny?_

--------------------------------

Of course, the good thing was, Bunny, after being told about it by her friend, had kept the story, as did Robbie's friend Ross Mitchells. Not the wisest thing to do for either of them, but, then again, love is a strange thing…

They soon got over it in the lunchroom that fateful afternoon of July 2006, but what about Spider-Man?

--------------------------------

"What's with the webslinger?"

JJJ's jaw was moving rapidly up and down rhythmically as he chewed the thick wad of mint-flavoured Excel. Actually, he was trying to break his habit of smoking his cigars; apparently, Robbie wasn't the only one who had found it distracting. Now, not for the first time, he was standing and facing the wide glass window that twisted and twirled all around the twenty-second floor of the _Daily Bugle_ headquarters. He was, of course, looking for Spider-Man; everyone was these days.

It was now Thursday, exactly seventy-two hours and thirty-six minutes since the friendly neighbourhood superhero had disappeared. Everyone was on edge – it was amazing how the disappearance of one single man had everyone unnerved and seemingly walking on eggs every day.

"I want you and Betty to search him out." Jonah suddenly whirled on Robbie, who shrunk back in veritable terror. "Find out his identity. Zoom in on the facts. When every piece clicks into place, corner him, do-"

But he was cut off by Robbie, who almost squeaked in surprise, "Corner him? What do you mean, corner him?"

"I know what you're thinking, and that's not what I meant." Jonah's jaw went repeatedly up and down as he chewed the small white square of mint-flavoured Excel – he should have actually been chewing Nicorette, now that you mention it – as he replied, calmly in comparison to his employee. "Just track him down and pester him to tell you two why in the world he isn't doing it." His short speech finished, JJJ leaned over to spit his gum into a garbage can, placed neatly on the floor beside his desk.

It, of course, meant donning that NYC-famous red and blue superhero suit, of picking up the ropes from where he had abandoned them three crimeful (cool word!) days ago. Jonah had waited the minimum amount of time before springing the challenge on Robbie, and now the chase was on.

"Right on it, sir," he muttered after JJJ's receding figure. "Find out why Spider-Man has suddenly given up. Got it."


	4. Finding it Out

JJJ had given Betty and Robbie the power to use the New York government ID files so they could track down the elusive webslinger. It was now Friday and Spider-Man had been gone for more than five days.

"I want you and Betty to unearth the real Spider-Man under all these files," Jonah instructed them that afternoon after lunch, chewing the tip of a small, thick brown cigar as he spoke. He'd returned to the habit on the assumption that smaller cigars wouldn't bother anyone. As it was, they did, especially Robbie, who told him so now.

"Sir, please can you stop smoking?" he asked of the boss, who stared down at him for a second before shrugging.

"I figured these were small enough, but since you say so..." Jonah explained, surprisingly pliant as he tossed the cigar over his shoulder so that it landed neatly in a faraway garbage can. "Anyway, as I was saying," he continued, looking at them both, "You have the right to peer into these files. It's a privilege, though, so don't abuse it. I advise you to start looking for any college or university kid – judging by his shape and size, I'd say he's not older than twenty-five, but it's probably closer to twenty-one – whose grades have been lowering."

"Whose grades have been lowering?" Betty cut in, looking up at JJJ quizzically. "Is that because he's been losing sleep or something?"

"Exactly," JJJ replied with a snap of the fingers. "That's the reason why you're my employee, Betty. Fast on the ball and quick-thinking at heart. I like that in a person." He cleared his throat before going on. "Right, so yeah. Most teens these days have a job, right? So, I figure, if Spider-Man's balancing a job, school – like I said, he must be pretty young – and being the Big Apple's greatest and only superhero, his grades _must_ be going down.

"That's just a starting point, though. I want you to try and then use your imagination. Find me Spider-Man.""With that, Jonah left, the door left swinging on its hinges in his wake.

"I would feel guilty if I did this," Robbie admitted to Betty once the head honcho had gone from sight. "It's so…wrong."

"You're so right." Betty chewed on the end of a pencil as she stared at the sleek, glossy computer screen, thinking. "Maybe we should just go on campus and interview the students?"

"Maybe we should just not do it." Robbie leaned back in his chair and surveyed the wall, as if for support on their dilemma. "I know it's the morally right thing to do."

Wearily, Betty glanced once more at the screen before laying her pencil down beside the computer's  
mouse. "Well," she sighed, "I think we'd just better not do it, period."

Robbie stared at the screen for a second before gesturing with his head. "Still, I know a guy. Thomas Larsson," he pointed out. "His grades have been dropping. We could ask him... I mean, I know it's not our business, but still..."

"Let's try there, then," Betty replied, and reached for her handbag.

--------------------------------

"Thanks, Tom." They each shook hands in turn with the Swedish youth, who nodded in reply.

"It was nothing," he said with a modest shrug, but he was blushing slightly. "Will it appear in the _Bugle_?"

"Of course," Robbie assured him. "We'll send you the issue free."

"Now I'm thanking _you_," Tom noted with a laugh. "Do I pay?"

Betty looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "We interviewed you. The interview will appear in the _Daily Bugle_. Do you honestly think the issue we'll send you isn't free?"

"Yeah. You're in college. You really should know this stuff by now," Robbie smiled as he took his black leather newspaper report and began to take his leave. "Hope your grades go back up."

"Me, too." Betty strapped her own handbag across her shoulder. "I know it's tough sometimes."

Tom, however, swept one hand through his thick platinum-blond locks, seemingly untroubled. "Yeah, but I'm working at it," he explained with a good-natured smile. "Nothing's too big a challenge for the great Thomas Larsson."

They bade him goodbye then, promising to send him the next day's issue of the _Bugle._ As soon as his tall figure disappeared from the horizon, Betty turned to Robbie.

"Well, tough luck on that one," she acknowledged. "We interviewed – how many people?"

"Abut six in all, I think," Robbie replied with a yawn, though the faint beginnings of a smile appeared on his face. "We've been at it for three hours, but we got nothing."

"Well, we know it isn't them, in any case," Betty added thoughtfully, her eyes rolling to the corner of a shop as she thought. "I wonder who he really is?"

"Let's not get too into it," Robbie cautioned his new friend. He was still blushing slightly, but nowhere as nervous as he once had been. "In a few days…well, who knows? Maybe Spider-Man will be back." But - oddly enough - he thought he knew Spider-Man's true identity, and didn't want to press matters.

"I sure hope so." Betty was staring at the downcast gray sky. "New York needs a hero."

"JJJ said we should use our imagination," her companion noted as he thought about it. "I have an idea. What's the name of that kid who takes pictures of Spider-Man?" He knew it was private, but the time had called for drastic action.

Betty suddenly whirled on him, her eyes wide and shocked-looking. "Peter... Good point! I think we finally have some sort of lead on this wild-goose chase." She began to resume walking, her gait quickening as her excitement mounted, and Robbie, though taller, had to trot to keep up with her.

"Should we ask him?" Robbie wondered aloud. "I mean, there has to be some easier way."

"True," Betty agreed, and her step slowed. "Let's find clues first," she began, stopping herself in time to give it more thought. "Like, if his grades are dropping, and if he's got the right size and shape, and everything. That way, we'll know for sure."

Robbie nodded in agreement. ""f it's him, we'll try to convince him to become Spider-Man once more."

"Without any trace of a doubt," Betty laughed as her pace sped up even more.

He nodded, almost absently - a flush was spreading itself across his features. Why did she always do that to him? You'd figure he'd blushed enough for one day.

Ah, well. This was it. He was currently living alone. He had a right to…uh…you know. Like somebody.


	5. Rhythm and Blues

**A/N: Ah, the last chappie.**

**Pikasqueaks: Why are you telling everyone this?**

**Thecrazyfanficcer: Because, well... Shouldn't they want to know?**

**Pikasqueaks: True, but... (shugs and grins) If you look at it that way, I plan to appear in at least ninety percent of your stories, Fanficcer.**

**Thecrazyfanficcer: (groans loudly) Yeah, whatever...**

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"Yup, it's him." Betty peered at the photo of Spider-Man in action, which had been snapped a week earlier, and the one of Peter Parker. The college kid wasn't really doing much in it, just standing there, but one could compare and note that both men displayed in the photographs looked alike.

"I hope you're right about this." Robbie chewed his lip nervously as he watched Betty, his cheeks still slightly flushed. "If not, well, who knows what could happen?"

"All right, then, Rob, I'm using the government files," Betty declared, and made her way over to the sleek-screened computer. Her fingers instantly began flying over the keys, a pale, flesh-coloured blur as she quickly analysed the list of names. "This is just like double-checking, Robbie - don't worry, I know it's him. And so do you.

"Let's see… Peter Parker. Well, first of all, he takes pictures of Spider-Man and refuses to say how he knows everyone's favourite superhero in the first place. For another thing, his grades have been going down, see?"

Robbie glanced at the screen and had to agree with her; since last Monday, though, the youth's grades had been skyrocketing, to rest around the ninety-five mark in science and math and about ninety in everything else.

"Also, he's about the same size and build – that we know for sure. And look." Her fingers quickly flicking over the keys, Betty accessed the homepage of Peter's school. "It's a school for geniuses like him. A while back, his grades were dropping because of…" She typed in something else with a few quick taps. "Severe tardiness."

"I know everything might lead to him, but New York is a big city," Robbie pointed out. "How do we know it's him?" But still, he knew. As Betty had noted earlier. He'd actually figured it out a long while back - way back, when Peter had brought in snapshot after snapshot of Spider-Man, leaving an amazed J. Jonah Jameson in his wake. At times he had seemed fidgety, agitated - as if he had had things to do. He was - as Robbie knew - the one and only Spider-Man.

"Well, the last thing we would need is solid evidence. Since we've got none…" She trailed off suddenly as shock registered on Robbie's face; he reached into the pocket of his sky-blue windbreaker, pulling out a tiny blue object.

One of Spider-Man's web canisters, Robbie had reasoned – sure enough, as Betty gazed over at it now, they could both see, through its transparent sides, what looked like rolls of gossamer webbing. It was tightly tied up, giving off an eerie resemblance to a spool of yarn caught outside of time in the tiny blue container.

"Where'd you find it, Robbie?" Her voice was but a hush-like whisper on the still, dead air.

His hand slowly closed over the web canister. "Under Peter's desk."

--------------------------------

When Peter Parker arrived at work the next day, he found his fellow coworkers Betty Brant and Robbie Robertson waiting for him.

"Why throw in the towel, Spider-Man?" Betty asked morosely as his tall figure neared the two coworkers.

"What?" said Peter. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Or do you, Spider-Man?" Robbie tipped a web canister into Peter's hand.

He stared at the small canister before staring at them, his hand unconsciously tightening around it.

"You know," Peter whispered. "And I can't blame you. I've got the Big Apple to save."

--------------------------------

"Well, that's the end of that," Betty confidently told her associate and accomplice the next day, leaning against the glass window as Spider-Man swung past via thick, sticky white webbing.

Robbie only nodded in reply. He was blushing, blushing, blushing really badly –

Do I dare go into detail? 'Cause, you know what happens next, right?

Suffice to say, they weren't the only ones in love. Right outside the headquaeters, Mary Jane Watson looked up to the bright sky, and, to her surprise, her eyes caught Spider-Man, superhero of New York City. Their gazes met; she ran to him.

"You're back, Spider-Man." She smiled at him, blue-green eyes shining with tears. "You've come back, Peter Parker."

So, that night, under the moonlight, rhythm went with blues and blues went with rhythm, as did life and love, love and life. As did MJ Watson and Pete Parker (also known as Spider-Man, though very few people knew it) and Robbie Robertson and Betty Brant.

Some things never change, I guess. We have this, we have that, but whatever we do, we always have love. Always.

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**Thecrazyfanficcer: Well, there you have it. The end of the fanfic. Supposedly, JJJ never asked again about Spider-Man's true identity. He forgot... OK, fine, so it was a plot hole. (blushes and grins)**

**Pikasqueaks: You know, both Robbie and Betty were OOC. Supposedly Betty won't date any average man. And she's younger. She actually went out with Peter once.**

**Thecrazyfanficcer: OK, I've got to start doing reasearch. (rolls eyes) I've also got to stop letting you into my fanfics.**

**Pikasqueaks: (grins evilly) Anyway, Spider-Man doesn't belong to Fanficcer - it belongs to Stan Lee and Steve Ditko.**

**Thecrazyfanficcer: Yup - that's it, peeps! Now for the reviewer reply!**

**Biggest Fan: Nah, I like my fanfic the way it is. Besides, I have lots to write! XD I'm surprised you actually reviewed; thanks so much! **


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